


April's Fool

by Water_Nix



Category: Glee
Genre: April Fools' Day, Embarrassment, Facebook, Gen, Humour, M/M, Twitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 03:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Water_Nix/pseuds/Water_Nix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>April Fool's Day is Santana's favourite day of the year. Poor Kurt is really in for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	April's Fool

What some people don't know about Santana Lopez, is that April Fool's Day is her favourite day of the year. But where most people cast a wide net in order to ensnare as many potential idiots as possible, Santana prefers to sink her teeth into one target per calendar year. The satisfaction of making a total ass out of the chosen target is so much more fulfilling than making a slight ass out of dozens.

And this year, well, she has far fewer potential April Fools. Berry is obviously out, because she's been going through some major shit and even Santana has a heart, as black and shrivelled as it may be. And so Lady Hummel it is. Santana figures he needs a kick up his curvy little tush pretty damn badly anyway. Maybe she's just the person to give it to him.

~^-^~

Kurt is startled awake. He' not sure what it was that startled him, because the apartment is quiet, and even the street outside isn't bustling with its usual activity. And it's strange, because the sun is stinging his eyes and it shouldn't be so bright at this hour... _Shit!_ His fucking alarm was supposed to go off nearly an hour before.

He rushes around, trying to get ready soon enough to catch his train. The water in the shower is freezing cold with pathetic pressure. He curses it, shivering away as he washes and rinses. He gets dressed at record speed, glad for once that he needs to be in comfortable clothing for his NYADA classes and not his usual outfits. And then he discovers that there's no coffee. Not a speck of coffee in the entire apartment. He rips the cupboards apart before finally giving it up as a lost cause and heading back to the bathroom to fix his still dripping hair.

And his hairdryer won't work. He curses loudly again and smacks it against the counter. There isn't a whole lot he can do, so he rummages through his product and works with what he has, knowing that his hair is going to be flat and lifeless all day long.

~^-^~

The first indication Kurt gets that something is purposely amiss is a text from Sam just as he's walking into NYADA's main building.

_Dude what's up with ur twitter?_

And a second later...

_Blaine's kinda upset_

Kurt checks his twitter app and curses loudly, ducking into an alcove to avoid other students.

**Kurt Hummel** @k_e_hummel Big, gay  & sparkly witch seeking adorable, bambi-eyed munchin for NYC playdate. Must be willing to duet. #ifyouknowwhatimean

**Kurt Hummel** @k_e_hummel Pulled on a pair of pants only to find them about a foot too short. Guess you forgot them in my luggage at the hotel. #whathappensinohiostaysinohio

He exits out of the app and replies to Sam.

_If Santana goes missing, I was with you._

He knows it was her. Who else would hack his account and tweet something like that? He knows she can be a bitch, but this is just... He tries to log in and delete the tweets, but his password doesn't work. He curses again and heaves a sigh, head thumping back against the wall behind him. After a moment, he stares at his phone again and decides to log onto Facebook. He figures if he can't do anything about his twitter right now, at least he can update his status there and let everyone know that he's been hacked and to ignore anything tweeted by him for the remainder of the day. Only she's been there, too.

**Kurt Hummel**

**I'm starring in an infomercial entitled: How I Manage to Squeeze This Gigantic Sea Serpent Into My Ludicrously Tight Pants Every Morning – And So Can You!**

**Kurt Hummel is in a relationship with 50 pounds of cheesecake. NY style with tear sauce.**

He deletes her status updates and adds his own.

**Kurt Hummel**

**SOMEONE has hacked all my accounts and that someone is going to pay. You're on, Lopez. Everyone else, please disregard anything you read today.**

And then he changes his password and heads to class. He can't do anything at the moment, and if he's late for dance, Cassie July will skin him alive.

In the middle of dance class a delivery guy comes into the room and loudly calls his name over the music. Silence falls and Cassie looks as if she's going to snap his neck. Swallowing his discomfort, he slinks over to the delivery guy and signs for the gigantic bouquet of red roses, depositing them on a bench and apologizing for the interruption before rejoining the group. He can feel the heat of his blush and it doesn't dissipate for the remainder of class.

The card had read: _Belated Valentine's gift. My hands were too busy for ordering flowers. ;) xoxo_

When he stalks out of class, red-faced and fuming, he promptly stuffs the roses into the nearest trash can and logs onto Facebook. And she's back.

**Oops! Guess we shoulda used a condom. I can just about see his or her little curls from here. November baby. :)**

The picture already has nearly thirty likes and comments from people wondering why he didn't tell them that he and Blaine were even back together. He deletes it quickly, thankful that he still has access to the account and hoping that Blaine hasn't been on to see it.

He checks his twitter feed before heading to acting class, though he knows it's only going to incense and mortify him.

**Kurt Hummel** @k_e_hummel Has mastered the art of self-delusion.

**Kurt Hummel** @k_e_hummel I'm almost out of Ambien. Quick, it's the perfect time to sign me up for Celebrity Rehab. #noncelebrityedition

**Kurt Hummel** @k_e_hummel Just when you think you've managed to fool yourself, you spot an industrial-sized tub of hairgel  & you're bawling in the middle of CVS. #cheesecaketime

In acting class he sits quietly with his arms wrapped around his torso, praying to Santana's evil overlord, Satan, that she can at the very least leave him alone at school for the rest of the day. But of course Satan doesn't respond to prayer, and Kurt doesn't even believe in him in the first place, so there is a soft knock on the door about twenty minutes in while Francesca is weeping through her monologue about bunnies.

He groans and hides his face, knowing that in all likelihood it's her doing. His acting teacher isn't nearly so murderous as Crazy July, luckily. Though Kurt reconsiders that luck a second later when he invites the guy from the door into the centre of the circle to share with the class.

And what the guy shares is a horrifying acapella rendition of _Build Me Up Buttercup_ that has Kurt wishing he could sink into the floor. He points dramatically at Kurt during key moments of the song, like when he's bellowing: _to you I'm a toy but I could be the boy you adore,_ and Kurt can't decide whether he would rather burst into flames and go out in a blaze of humiliation right that second, or if he'd rather wait for the perfect moment during which he can take Santana with him. Taking Santana with him seems like a more satisfying way to go.

He almost skips his vocal class, worried that she has something else planned to humiliate him, but he figures that her diabolical surprise will still show up and get him kicked out of NYADA by Madame Tibideaux regardless, so he may as well go and face the music, so to speak.

Nothing happens. He breathes a sign of relief as he glances at the clock, the minutes ticking down towards the end of the class.

In the hallway he leans against a cool, concrete wall and closes his eyes. He feels like everybody is looking at him. Like everybody knows. He slides down the wall onto his butt and pulls his phone out of his bag, a sick sense of curiosity overtaking him.

**Come what maaaay. I will love you until my dying daaaay.**

**Kurt Hummel** @k_e_hummel How to attract idiots who follow you around like a puppy  & never get a clue that you're not actually into them. Autobiography or selfhelp book?

**Kurt Hummel** @k_e_hummel Is it 3:00 yet? #anotheronebitesthedust

He's still staring down at his phone and wondering how someone can be such a terrible person when he hears Adam's voice. He glances over the top of it to see Adam's feet and legs. He shuts his eyes before forcing himself to look the rest of the way up to Adam's face, which doesn't appear the least bit happy.

Adam is clutching his own phone in angry looking fingers and he takes a peek at it, fiddling with something before he speaks again.

“Does she have psychic powers?”

Kurt furrows his brow in confusion. “Um... what?”

“Santana. Does she have psychic powers? Because the latest tweet from your account reads: Is it three o'clock yet. Hashtag - another one bites the dust. And yes, it is three, and well, I think maybe we shouldn't see each other for a while. Because you seem unsure and you failed to mention that there was, in fact, something physically still going on with your ex, so I'm only to assume that it will continue to happen any time the pair of you are in the same vicinity. And I really like you, Kurt, but I was actually hoping for more.”

Kurt's heart is pounding and he debates whether or not he should get up from his seat on the floor or what he should say, or if he really wants to say anything at all. The only thing he manages is, “I, ah...” and then Adam is continuing.

“Look, when you really are over him like you say you want to be, ring me. Until then, I'll be around if you need a friend. Yeah?”

Kurt nods, attempting to smile. When he doesn't say a word for a long moment, Adam nods to himself and turns on his heel, hurrying away down the hall.

After sitting in stunned silence for fifteen minutes, Kurt manages to pull himself up off the floor and gathers his things to head in the direction of home, stopping first at his favourite bakery, because after the day he's had, he's entitled to a treat or five. Cheesecake filled red velvet cupcakes that is. He almost orders actual cheesecake, but he refuses to make another of Santana's premonitions come true.

His dad calls as he's heading to the station to catch his train back to Bushwick.

“Kurt? How you doin', buddy?” Kurt makes a groaning noise as a response. “Carole said there was some weird stuff on your Facebook thing today.”

Kurt groans again. “Oh God, she saw it too? Santana's playing an April Fool's joke on me. Haha.”

Burt chuckles into the phone and Kurt physically aches with how badly he wants a hug from his dad.

“Well be sure you get her back, kiddo.”

“Oh, I will,” Kurt answers, more bloodthirsty than he'd intended on sounding in front of his dad. Burt chuckles again and they talk about the shop, and Carole, and Finn's new school until Burt has to go.

When he enters the apartment she is standing there waiting him with her hands on her hips and a smirk on her lips. Kurt tosses his bag into the corner and rounds on her. Just as he's about to start yelling, she says, “You're welcome,” and he snaps his mouth shut in shock.

The shock only lasts a second. “ _You're welcome?_ You completely humiliated me! And now Adam doesn't want to see me anymore –”

“And how does that make you feel? Really?” She raises her eyebrows. Kurt just stares at her and then she nods as if he answered her question. “Relieved, right? Listen, Kurt, is it really the leader of the Mod Squad you want bouncing on your dick, or –”

“That's none of your –”

Kurt's phones rings, shrill in the tense air of the loft.

“Right on schedule,” Santana says, running her thumb along the tips of her other nails.

Kurt pulls his phone from his pocket and looks down at the screen. “It's Blaine,” he says aloud.

Santana smirks again. “Like I said, you're welcome.” And she picks up her bag and heads for the door.

Kurt shakes his head, clearing away his stupor, and taps his finger on the screen to answer the call. “Blaine?”

“Hey, Kurt. How are you doing? Today was kind of...”

Kurt groans and lowers himself onto a chair. “You can say that again. Have you talked to Santana at all? Because she seemed to know you were going to call before you actually did.”

“I... ah, _no_.” Blaine sounds confused and Kurt shakes his head. So much for Occam's razor.

“God, how does she – I'm beginning to think she really does have a psychic Mexican third eye.”

“Um... what?”

Kurt chuckles. “Long story.”

“I have time. I mean, if you want to tell me.”

Blaine's voice is soft and sweet and Kurt feels his insides warm and he breathes a deep sigh, a smile slowly creeping over his face for the first time since he woke up forty-five minutes late that morning.

“Yeah,” he answers. “I would really love that.”

“And you should probably explain the ins and outs of anatomy to Santana, not to mention the fact that if it _were_ possible for one of us to have gotten pregnant on Valentine's Day, it would have been me.”

Kurt giggles into the phone, shaking his head. “Oh honey, she does not need that information. She knows too much as it is.”

“Honey, huh?”

“Mmm, I think so.”

“Okay.”


End file.
